


Keep Me Awake

by SadCannibalNoises



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, No plot just porn, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadCannibalNoises/pseuds/SadCannibalNoises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it still strikes Margot that she may be in the middle of a years-long dream. It seems the only explanation for her life's abrupt turn into this - Alana in her life and her bed, their child asleep down the hall, her brother buried in a cemetery she has never visited and never will. She brushes a ghost of a kiss over Alana's temple and settles back down to sleep. Or at least that's the plan. Alana has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Me Awake

Margot wakes up with the weight of Alana sliding into their bed, settling under the covers in the dark. It takes her a minute to surface from her dreams enough to remember Morgan crying, Alana leaving their room with a groan, Margot's own sleepy gratitude that it's not her night for Crying Toddler Duty and her swift return to sleep.

She rolls over and reaches out a hand to trail Alana's arm, just to let her know she's awake. Sort of awake. In that vague "I will wake up if you want to talk about anything but otherwise I'm going to be asleep again in another thirty seconds" sort of way.

The room is pitch-dark and she feels rather than sees Alana lean into the touch slightly, her voice sweet and slightly hoarse from singing lullabyes to Morgan as she apologizes. "Sorry I woke you up again. Didn't mean to. It took forever to get him back down again but he's out now."

Margot yawns and moves a bit closer to Alana, pulling herself awake enough to form sentences. "'S okay. Come over here." She opens her arms and Alana rolls over into them, nestling her head under Margot's chin, a leg over Margot's thigh. She's warm in Margot's arms, soft with a core of steel to her (literal steel, figurative steel, any way you want to slice it Alana is a miracle of contrasts).

Sometimes it still strikes Margot that she may be in the middle of a years-long dream. It seems the only explanation for her life's abrupt turn into this - Alana in her life and her bed, their child asleep down the hall, her brother buried in a cemetery she has never visited and never will. She brushes a ghost of a kiss over Alana's temple and settles back down to sleep.

Or at least that's the plan.

After a few moments she notices Alana's fingers have begun to trace a pattern on her hip over her nightgown, just barely touching her. Her lips curve into a smile against Alana's mussed hair but she tries not to get her hopes up just yet. Their sex life isn't quite what it used to be, after the baby, after Alana took the new job. She's not complaining, she understands that spending all day being obliquely threatened by Hannibal Lecter and then much of the evening being climbed on by a toddler isn't the most conducive thing to romance, makes Alana sometimes feel like being touched any further is the last thing in the world she wants. Margot does her best to enjoy what Alana does initiate, and to keep in mind that eventually Morgan's going to grow up and their life can get a little further back to normal.

But, if she's being perfectly honest with herself, Margot's spending a lot more time alone with her right hand than she would in a perfect world. And she knows Alana's signals well enough by now to know what that particular idle stroke tends to lead to, but hasn't led to in a while. And her heart starts beating wildly.

Alana, resting over Margot's heart, can't help but hear that and she answers it with a pleased little laugh. "Am I keeping you awake, love?"

"Please. Keep me awake." Margot nudges her hip just slightly against Alana's hand, wordlessly acknowledging the touch, and Alana turns her face further toward Margot to dust a kiss on her clavicle and start to trail further kisses up her throat and jaw. Margot shivers - she can't quite remember when they last touched, really touched this way, not a good-bye hug or a toddler hand-off or a quick affectionate pat.

Alana laughs and brushes her lips over Margot's gently, there and gone so quick there's no time for it to turn into anything real. It could be one of those hello-goodbye kisses they exchange in the doorway, kisses she loves, but which do not hold the promise of Alana's still-gentle still-roaming fingers.

"Are you sure?" She can hear the smile in Alana's voice even though she can't see her face in the dark. "I know you have that thing with the investors in the morning..."

Margot slides a hand up Alana's back and into her hair before growling, "Fuck the investors" and pulling Alana's lips back down to hers, swallowing Alana's laugh with her lips and tongue.

She has her wife out of her pajamas in moments, the dark no impediment to her exploration as she does her very best to cover every inch of Alana's sensitive skin with her lips or fingers or both. Some of the drawn-out languorousness of the early days of their lovemaking is gone, but it's a fair trade for how well they know each other now, how quickly Margot can elicit sighs and moans and trembling from Alana, seeking all her most sensitive places.

Alana lets her take the lead for some time, then startles Margot by rolling her over onto her back. It's partly just how Alana wants her, but also partly a way to get enough leverage to reach the bedside lamp, which Alana switches on. Margot blinks against the sudden bright light to see Alana, flushed and rumpled and naked, looking down at her  tracing a fingertip down her jaw and neck, over her nipple where the fingertip becomes a palm, cupping and rubbing against the thin fabric covering Margot's breast, causing her to arch and sigh.

"I want to see you," Alana murmurs to her, eyes narrowed slightly as she watches Margot's response to her touch. Always the psychiatrist, always the scientist, even here in their bed, monitoring and adjusting and experimenting. Margot bites back a grin at the thought that she must be the world's luckiest experimental guinea pig. She's willing to provide the necessary feedback. For science.

Alana bends to kiss Margot again and then she's moving down Margot's body, pushing up her nightgown, and pressing hot, wet kisses and tiny gentle bites against Margot's hips and belly and down her thighs. Margot doesn't need any prompting to spread her legs apart and Alana is on her as soon as she does, tongue and lips and clever fingers seeking the heat and damp at Margot's center. Or anyway at what feels right now like Margot's center, like her whole world has collapsed to this bed and this rare borrowed time after midnight when the two of them aren't beholden to their jobs, or even their child, but can belong only to each other.

Margot can hear her own cries, her heartbeat loud in her ears, and she twists one hand in the bedsheets while she reaches out blindly with the other until her fingers meet Alana's. Their fingers twine and the touch feels as electric as it did the first time they did this, Margot backing Alana up against a wall of the stable, scents of hay and leather, both of them laughing and breathless at the audacity of it when they'd barely had their first kiss a few days prior, but neither wanting to go into the house with Mason, Margot finger-fucking Alana until her legs trembled and she nearly collapsed them both to the ground. She'd been such an enigma to Margot then, a puzzle to be solved and a prize to be won. She'd been perfect, even after, blushing belatedly as they picked straw from each other's hair.

The memory in combination with Margot's recent deprivation and Alana's fingers curled deep inside her do Margot in. She twists her hips up against her wife's insistent hand, lets out a cry so loud she's a little embarrassed by it, and comes hard, stars exploding behind her eyelids, Alana stroking her more gently through the aftershocks. Alana presses a kiss to her inner thigh and then eases back up to lie against Margot, skin to skin, kissing her slow and deep until Margot's racing heart and over sensitive body calm a bit.

When Margot can think again she brushes Alana's hair back and kisses her back  thanks and appreciation. "That was wonderful. And well worth being tired at that stupid meeting tomorrow." She says it just for the smile it earns, then insinuates a leg between Alana's, starting to press her open and back to return the favor.

Alana shakes her head slightly and nestles down against Margot, holding her in place and repositioning herself so she can rock her pelvis slow and sweet against Margot's thigh. "Just like this." She presses herself even closer, kisses Margot's breath away, like she wants to melt into Margot completely.

Even more than she would have liked to taste Alana, Margot wants Alana to have exactly what she wants. So she holds her close, kisses her hard and deep, searching tongue and wanting lips, and she slides her free hand down Alana's stomach and into the down of her hair, finding just the right place to press and caress at the juncture of Alana's thighs to provide the additional friction and pressure she knows her wife needs.

She pulls back from the kiss when she feels Alana start to come apart so she can watch a sight she never tires of, Alana's head falling back, her eyelashes fluttering shut, her color rising and her lips forming a silent "oh, God" that she almost never actually gives voice to.  Alana's orgasms are silent and powerful, a full body shudder, and Margot can't imagine ever tiring of the sight, the feel or taste of Alana unraveling in her hands.

They fall back onto the same pillow, foreheads touching, slowly coming back to earth, skimming hands lightly over each other's skin. Not quite ready to let go. Margot combs a hand through her wife's thoroughly mussed hair, restoring her to a bit of order, and she's not even sure what exactly she whispers except that it involves the words  "beautiful" and "lucky" and "mine."

She drifts off still touching Alana, too drowsy and sated to even roll over and turn out the light. Her last thought is that she hopes Morgan stays a terrible sleeper for just a bit longer. Just long enough for a few more nights like this.


End file.
